


We Were Both Young and Old

by mimi_chi



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 17:56:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15394242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimi_chi/pseuds/mimi_chi
Summary: Set after Death of the Outsider. Billie and The Outsider have a quick chat and drink at a bar one year after Billie's choice to spare him.





	We Were Both Young and Old

They meet up every so often, by chance or coincidence, Billie couldn’t be sure. Even stripped of all of his magic, the Outsider ( she can’t call him by his true name, not yet. not when just thinking it reminded her of Daud leaning to whisper it into his ear like a lover, just before he’d torn apart into nothingness ) still knew things she could only dream of. She wouldn’t put it past him to still know how to tap into the Void or have a few nasty tricks up his sleeve.

“It’s good to see you again.” The Outsider said as he slid a glass across the table to her, her favorite brand of whiskey, Old Dunwall with exactly four ice cubes in it. Just how she liked it. Of course he’d know. She couldn’t pinpoint what was more unnerving, the fact that his voice was just that, a voice, human without any of the strange buzzing of thousands of years and thousands of magics, or that his eyes were a pale shade of green. Did he like looking into the mirror nowadays or did he still see himself as she saw him, eyes black as night, gaunt with cheekbones like razors?

“Wish I could say the same about you. What are you up to these days? Inciting more madness? Started a new cult yet? Still stalking people you think are interesting?” Billie asked smartly, but she didn’t turn down the drink, sipping it slowly, savoring the taste of smoke on her tongue. If those insinuations hurt the Outsider, he didn’t show it, mouth curved upwards just the tiniest bit at the edge, as if Billie’s bluster was amusing. As if she wasn’t a woman capable of killing him with one of the five knives she had strapped to her, the whiskey glass, her bare hands. 

“‘Every street kid, every desperate wretch pushed to the edge- they all wanted you to speak to them.’” The Outsider quoted back to her, word for word, only seeming to be more amused as Billie’s scowl grew. “I teach in the slums of Dunwall, in between writing history books that the Empress is generously funding.” 

For a few moments, Billie could only gawk at him, before shaking her head.

“I can’t believe her Majesty gave you the time of day. Or that she’d support you after… everything.” Teaching kids though- she didn’t know whether to feel bad for those kids or envious. Did they know that they were hearing the voice of an old god, one that so many people had committed unspeakable atrocities just to try to hear a whisper? Did they fall asleep in class or grow bored with his droning?

“I made a convincing case.” The Outsider stated blandly enough, bent over his own drink, a man like any other. In the Void, he hadn’t smelled like much of anything. Maybe a hint of the salty sea, of dried blood, and ancient magic. Now, she could smell the cheap soap he used, that his clothes were sun dried, and dust. In the Void, he had been cold, but when their knees brushed against each other slightly under the table, she could feel his warmth. In the Void, he had seemed untouchable and ethereal. Here in a dumpy pub at the edge of the wharf, he was solid and alive. “And it was… Necessary to have a well-off patron who I could trust. I can’t subsist on secrets and offerings alone these days.”

Now _that_ made for some interesting imagery, the Outsider having to break bread with the lowest of them. That the Outsider now had to sleep. That he had to take a dump like the rest of them. She snorted as she drained her glass, before raising two fingers to signal the bartender back over. Now that she knew the Outsider was loaded, she wouldn’t feel too badly about getting drunk on his ( or the Empresses’ ) coin.

“And you?” The Outsider asked, a tinge of curiosity lacing into his voice. That was strange too, that it seemed like his vocal cords were capable of producing actual emotion.

“And me what?” Billie asked, a bit stunned that he was even asking. Before, the Outsider had always known what she was thinking and doing. He could ghost in and out of her life as easy as a sea breeze, and the fact that now he didn’t know anything she didn’t want him to know was pleasing. She considered not telling him anything, just to see him squirm, but maybe time had softened her edges. Or maybe the Outsider didn’t need obsidian black eyes to pull secrets out of people, just patience and that familiar unnerving stare. “I’m repairing ships.”

The Outsider made a small considering noise at that, one that she could read into for a hundred years and still not hit the mark. But whatever he thought, Billie was content with her work. No one bothered her, the smell of the ocean had become soothing after years of playing at being a ship captain, and there was something satisfying in building up a battered and twisted metal husk into something whole and beautiful again. It was a hard job for shit pay, but she got by, and these days the only blood she spilt was in her dreams or in memories. It was a job she could grow old doing, and that was good enough for her. 

“It suits you.” The Outsider decided finally, and Billie wasn’t sure if she wanted his blessing in this or not, so she switched topics. 

“What does the Royal Protector think about his daughter being your patron?” She asked instead, having the pleasure of seeing the Outsider look almost haunted for a split second before he hunched over his drink protectively.

“Corvo has let me know that a particularly gruesome and creative fate awaits me should anything happen to the Empress.” He paused, smile mirthless. “But even he is curious to know what I’m willing to tell. What they do with that knowledge-”

“Is their choice, I know.” Billie interrupted, unimpressed. She hadn’t been afraid of him when he was a god, and now that he was a gaunt human, paper thin and just as delicate, she couldn’t be bothered to sit through his monologues if she had a choice. The Outsider looked taken aback at her cutting him off, as if he had forgotten who he was talking to, before he smiled, the expression making him look simultaneously old and young.

“And what of the choices you’ve made? Are you content with things as they are, or do you regret what you’ve done?” Without the weight of the Void behind those word, they were just intrusive and annoying questions, and Billie scowled at him asking them.

“What are you really here for?” She asked, voice rough and blunt, and the Outsider suddenly seemed sheepish and small, two things she never thought she would ever see on him. It had been a year since he had first turned his face up to the sunlight, hand held to shield his newly minted green eyes. Had he become so human in such a short amount of time? 

“Sometimes it’s nice to see a familiar face.” He admitted, slow and ponderous, as if he would have rather said nothing at all. But when was the Outsider ever quiet in anyone’s presence? The Void had seemed like an awfully lonely place, and if Billie let herself think about it, she might start feeling dangerously sympathetic for him. More than she had when she let him live, and that was an odd thought. 

“The Royal Protector and the Empress are closer than I am.” Billie pointed out, finding that it was easier to needle out information from him when he was like this, obviously on the way to not being able to hold his alcohol, but still stubbornly sipping so it looked like he belonged here. So he could stay. 

“As fascinating as Corvo and Empress Emily Kaldwin are, I wonder what they would have done if they had been faced with the choice you were.” The Outsider was looking somewhere beyond his glass, face blank as if he had forgotten he was wearing one. “Some days, what you did seemed like a kindness. I’ve been able to feel the sun, learned that I like to eat fish, that I can surround myself with people and feel at peace.” His face darkened and he turned back to her, mouth a thin line. “But then other days…”

“Would you rather I have killed you?” Billie asked idly, since this at least was familiar. She had felt the same, in the days, months, years after Daud had spared her despite her betrayal. Betrayer’s guilt, maybe. 

The Outsider seemed to consider this question seriously, head canted to the side, weighing the pros and cons like dropping stones into the sea.

“Some days.” He decided on finally, short and sweet, so Billie figured he must be telling the truth. 

They fell into silence after that, almost companionable. Billie was tempted to ask the Outsider about if he still dreamed of the Void, if it still called to him like it did to her. Some nights she spent drifting in a waterless sea, sinking deeper and deeper into the inky blackness until a big red eye opened beneath her, roving and all seeing. Who would be the new god of the Void, now that its most prolific occupant was here? She could no longer use the gifts that Delilah had given her, but it seemed like even without the Outsider, the Void still called out. Now it just didn’t have a voice.

After her fourth drink, Billie set her glass down with finality, standing and grabbing her coat from the back of her chair. The Outsider made no move to follow, but by the tenseness in his shoulders, Billie was sure he was aware all the same.

“Take care getting back to Dunwall.” She said, not sure why she was telling such an ancient being to ‘take care’ as if he was as young as he looked. She must be getting soft, in head and heart.

“Until we see each other again.” The Outsider said with certainty, inclining his head to her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, as she exited, the Outsider’s gaze on her as familiar as a lover’s fingers on the back of her neck.


End file.
